


Dances With Wolves (A Moonlight Liberation)

by Inverted_Like_A_Wrong_Souffle17



Category: Destiny - Fandom, Freedom - Fandom, Oneshot - Fandom, Settlers
Genre: Belonging, Freedom, Other, Prison, Wolves, coming home, enchanting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inverted_Like_A_Wrong_Souffle17/pseuds/Inverted_Like_A_Wrong_Souffle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Native American girl is locked away in a cold prison of sorrow in the late 1800's. What happens when she has finally had enough. When all hope is gone is there any chance of light finding it's way back into the pitiful hole of which Quidel calls her life? Is there such a thing as salvation when all her life she was told she was worth nothing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dances With Wolves (A Moonlight Liberation)

Was it a dream? Maybe.  
What was a dream anyway? Hope, fear and fantasy interwoven so closely that it is impossible to tell them apart? Are the raindrops ticking against the window a dream too? Tears of a weeping spirit? Should there be a line between fantasy and reality, and if so why? There is no reality. There is no fantasy. There is only here. Now. Life.  
◊  
Quidel quietly climbed the stairs to her room; leaving behind the trailing sounds of her stepmother explaining to a friend that she didn’t understand her stepdaughter, that Quidel was a dreamer, she had her head in the clouds. As the cold iron door door locked closed behind her Quidel realised she was alone again. It was a cold thought that made her shiver as if she had plates of ice in her neck and drops of freezing ice water were seeping down her spine.  
Looking through the rain-wet window of her small room she saw the fading light of a setting sun reflected on the snow-covered landscape, and she smiled. Today would be the day. In her mind she could see them already; galloping over the snowy fields and dodging the age-old pines. The ice of her loneliness melted with the gentle warmth of her smile. She could hear their irresistible call.

◊  
As darkness fell she sat motionless on the cold, oak-wood floor, her arms wrapped around her legs, a fragile smile on her lips and the joy of freedom in her eyes that kept the window in their relentless stare. She had sat there before without the smile and with eyes and cheeks tear stained, coloured with doubt and sadness, but now, there was neither – nor fears or uncertainty- only a smile.  
She didn’t make any light, she wouldn’t need any; for her eyes, there was enough brightness to distinguish the shapes in which she was surrounded. She felt as if she was sitting on a tapestry of light and in her mind saw a layer of it around her, clinging close and keeping the darkness away. Quidel would not be in need of a lantern to illuminate her journey for she knew the way. After years of searching she had finally found it by embracing her dreams and when she did, she realised she’d always known where to find it. She was a dreamer, but what were dreams? Her Stepmother had been right; she didn’t understand. Quidel’s smile faded for a second, her eyes for a moment losing their focus as she bowed her head and looked inwards, as memories of her time at this demonically influenced prison cascaded through her mind, horrible memories that were so strong even the greatest of warriors could never forget. The relentless, cold-blooded massacre of innocent civilians that had taken place in the stronghold of the natives. All in efforts of purifying them of their ‘savage’ nature.  
◊  
When she saw the rising moon through the little window she stood up and looked at her room one last time while turning a full circle. Her expression brightened. No regrets.  
She opened the window and climbed through, hardly noticing the streaming rain. She jumped from her attic room and floated down so gently that she made no print in the snow when she landed. She had remembered her training from all those years ago when learning how to hunt and kill.  
It was her first time out of the camp since she was a little girl. She had forgotten how massive the old building was, made of old red bricks, she ran her hands along them feeling the crags and mortar between the bricks. There were two statues of animals she'd only ever seen in books. The lions sat at the head of the stairs, resting several feet above the pavement, their mouths opened in an eternal, unheard roar. She kept her eyes on these creatures, the portrayal in stone so realistic she wondered if the spirits of the creatures resided in the casting.  
Lights came on upstairs and the shuffling of feet could be heard, Quidel tore her gaze away from the stone beasts and ran toward the forest entrance.  
She knew the way and she would walk it, she had heard their call.  
The forest wasn’t dark at night, it was only dark to those who refused to see the silver wolves dancing around, laughing softly with the whispers of the wind. Quidel walked the magical trail toward a large luminescent boulder in the middle of a clearing. Set upon it was a blue rose that someone had left for her, she carefully picked it up and wove it in her cinnamon hair before sitting down on the rock, gazing up to the night sky.  
A silver wolf circled around her before placing itself on the rock beside her. It was looking intently at the moon, as if reading the thousands of stories that it held. Quidel just smiled and sighed contently. Together they sat there, Quidel and the wolf, neither speaking a word but still sharing a lifetime of understanding, their voiceless words carried by the strength of silence.  
Finally they came, Quidel could hear from afar the tranquility of their approach. Not a single leaf rustled as the forest held its breath for their arrival. Quidel could see the first, gracefully galloping through the trees in its run, dancing through the forest avoiding all that came in its path. More joined and the sound of hooves echoed throughout the land. The great brumbies galloping towards her, around her and narrowly evading her in their natural paths like a turbulent multi-coloured river flowing around her. Neither Quidel nor the wolf looked up when they came, neither moved when they ran around them, Quidel just smiled and the wolf just sat mesmerised.  
After some time, when the herd had almost passed, Quidel raised and then she turned, her mysterious smile widened once again as she cast her eyes down for a moment, then she jumped and ran with the brumbies, following them to her tribe in Mohawk Valley, away from the imprisonment she had long been condemned.


End file.
